ménage à trois
by Bowtie
Summary: NejiSakuShika. Anthology. 06. For them, following the heart's desire is the biggest taboo.
1. cooking disasters

Title: cooking disasters  
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

A little anthology of unrelated _NejiSakuShika_ oneshots.  
_Ménage à trois (fr.): directly translated to 'household of three'. Simply put, a **ménage à trois** is a romantic relationship in which three people, such as a married couple and a lover, live together and have sexual relations._

* * *

"Sakura-chan? Why don't we ever have dinner at your place?"

The pink haired medic froze in her seat across from Naruto. She snuck a glance at the two men sitting on either side of her, but they remained as nonchalant as ever, much to her dismay. A delicate blush spread over her face as she struggled to find a viable excuse. "W-well..."

"Oh! I know!" Naruto cut her off, pieces of ramen spewing out of his mouth. "I bet it's because none of you three genii can cook!" The joking grin was noticeably present on his face as he said this, the soup drooling from a corner of his mouth. However, when the three genii in question did _not_ look at all amused, his own grin faded, replaced by a confused look.

"..._Seriously_? I was only kidding..."

By now, the three had stopped eating to stare at the soon-to-be-Rokudaime. The man on Sakura's left shifted in his seat uncomfortably, his pearl orbs glaring at the blond. The other, on Sakura's left, only sighed in response, leaning back in his chair.

The next few minutes were ones Naruto wished he had caught on camera.

Shikamaru, in all his lazy stupor, had explained first, much to Naruto's surprise. The lazy genius had deemed it to be "too troublesome" to deal with. He didn't see why cooking was necessary when take out or eating out was still an option. Neji, the almighty Hyuuga heir with a _slight_ superiority complex declared, quite stoically that he was a shinobi, not a goddamned chef. It wasn't like he had time to make gourmet meals when fighting off S-Classed nukenin.

Sakura though, was a complete contrast from her two lovers. She had blushed furiously, and after a few seconds of embarrassment, replied hotly that 'even though her food was always burnt, it was very much edible, thank you very much'.

Naruto, upon witnessing the three slightly, and in Sakura's case _very_ flustered shinobi, did the only thing that came to mind: burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.

-

"Neji-kun. Shika-kun. We are not going to be laughed at by _Naruto_, for God's sake." Sakura said, face still slightly flushed from their earlier conversation. "And for our cooking skills, no less!"

The two men stared back at her while she paced around their beige coloured living room. They agreed, of course. As much as they respected the blonde, it was undignified to be laughed at by him for such simple matters. Sakura plopped down on the couch next to them, a contemplative expression adorning her face.

Neji and Shikamaru knew what she was thinking of doing. To Neji, cooking to prove Naruto wrong didn't sound all that appealing. In fact, he thought wryly that he probably preferred having his ego marred just a bit instead of being blown to pieces by their dangerous cooking. He snuck a glance at Shikamaru, smirking when he saw the worried expression he wore. He would bet a piece of his precious hair that Shikamaru was thinking of the last time they attempted to cook.

Sakura, from her position at the left end of the couch watched their silent interaction with displeased eyes. She knew they were thinking of last time's disastrous results. "Guys. I think we should cook to prove that idiot wrong," she said, smiling innocently. Neji and Shikamaru stared back at her incredulously. She only smiled.

Neji opened his mouth to disprove, but stopped short when Sakura wedged herself between him and Shikamaru. "..._please_?"

Taking advantage of their momentary surprise, she snaked her arms through both theirs, the innocent smile never leaving her face. Neji almost cursed out loud. Sakura, it seemed, always got what she wanted.

"...fine."

Her face brightened up immediately as she raced to the kitchen, the two men in tow. They exchanged yet another glance. It was going to be a long day, indeed.

-

"Okay...this goes _where_?" Sakura asked, brows knitted together in pent up frustration. Cooking was just so damn _hard_! When silence greeted her, she snapped her head to the right, where his almighty highness Neji was currently glaring at a potato. Or what was left of it, anyway.

It could've passed as mashed potato, save the bits and pieces of unidentified green that was mixed with it. Neji, it seemed, could Kaiten an enemy into the next country, but could not, for the life of him, figure out why each piece had to be chopped at that damned angle. There was a 'thud' as the knife Neji had held seconds ago joined his other knives above his spot in the kitchen. Sakura, upon seeing _all_ her precious potatoes reduced to the mush, gasped in horror. "Neji-kun! What the _hell_?"

A snigger from their right brought both their attentions to the infamous lazy genius of Konoha. "You two are hopeless."

"And you're much better?" Sakura retorted dryly, pointing at the..._soup _that sat before him. In reality, it looked like nothing more than clumps of brown muck in a pot, with occasional green poking out. Shikamaru however, seemed triumphant enough.

"At least I figured out you were supposed to put _water_ in when making soup." _Unlike you and Neji last time_. Though it was unspoken, the two _knew_ exactly of which humiliating moment the Nara was referring to. That day had indeed not been a very good one.

"So, since you're so professional at this," Neji continued, smirking slightly. "You won't mind cooking dinner for us, would you?" Sakura, having guessed what he would say, had already begun playing her part. Whining, it seemed, worked wonders on the Nara.

"Oh, yes, Shika-kun." She gushed out, smiling innocently. "You must. Since you are _so_ good, we shouldn't waste talent like yours." Shikamaru backed away slowly, eyeing his lovers sceptically. It didn't take a genius to figure out he'd landed himself in a very troublesome spot indeed.

"I-"

"-will gladly cook something delicious for us, right?" Shikamaru held up his hands in front of him defensively, protesting against their wishes. Neji and Sakura, however, seemed determined to win this. He backed up until his back hit the wall, cursing Naruto inwardly. This was all his fault. Him and his stupid questions.

"Okay, okay!" Shikamaru threw his hands up in defeat. "I'll cook. Don't blame me when you die of poisoning. Sakura, turn the stove on please."

Sakura, being quite pleased with herself, walked over to the stove, reached her hand out to turn a knob when she stopped short and stared. And stared. And stared some more. She let out a nervous giggle. There were so many buttons and knobs! Which one was to turn it on...?

Pink brows knitted together in concentration as she studied each intently. It was useless. Every damn button looked the same. She straightened out again. She wasn't a genius for nothing. Maybe, there was another way. A delighted smile spread across her face when an idea hit her. Yes! The stove was just fire. So, maybe if she Katon'd it...

Satisfied with her solution, she set out to make the seals for a _small, small _Katon jutsu...

-

Two hours later, the three, after a few...accidents, burns and explosions, slumped down in a pile, covered in unidentified substances- the manifest of their cooking. Sakura's face held a sheepish expression, while Neji's clearly said _I-told-you-so_. Shikamaru, on the other hand, had already started to make his way to the top drawer, where all their precious take out flyers were located.

"Sushi tonight, anyone?"

-

_end ; reviews always appreciated. _


	2. poker night

**Title: **poker night**  
Prompt: **012. you lose

_A/N:_ Thanks for all the reviews! I'm so glad you enjoyed the last one. This one's shorter, but eh. There's another one on the way though and it'll be a bit longer. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Shikamaru groans when the pinkette across him yells in triumph as she wins yet _another_ round of this stupid game.

"Shika-kun!" she sings deviously, her words slurred over ever so slightly. "Strip, strip, _strip_!"

He glances to his right at Neji in look for support, but all he receives from the Hyuuga prodigy is a haughty smirk and him mouthing the word _strip_. Shikamaru groans yet again and looks down at his attire desperately, realizing that he is already down to his boxers, all his shinobi attire lying in a pile next to him.

Out of the 23 games they've already played, he lost 17 of them.

Across from him, his two lovers sat fully clothed, only their basic shinobi gear lying in a pile next to his, a few empty sake bottles littered next to the giant pile of clothes and gear. Sakura, as usual is the first to become tipsy, and there is a droopy smile on her face as she continues to chant _strip, strip, strip_. From looking at Neji, Shikamaru figures he's nearing dangerously close to the pinkette's level of toxicity as there is a hint of his devious smile flashing on his face.

"Alright, alright!" he surrenders, throwing his arms up in defeat. Unfortunately, Shikamaru is the only fully sober being in the room – and now, he wishes he had drank a bottle or two of the sake they stole from Tsunade, because he did _not_ enjoy being the center of a striptease (even though seeing each other naked is pretty much the norm now, Shikamaru is still a shy man).

"Hey – what?" Shikamaru gasps as the two jump him, two pairs of hands fumbling to remove his boxers.

"Too slow!" Sakura giggles, and soon, they are a tangle of arms and legs. Clothing is thrown in every direction, and the light switch is hit.

Shikamaru grins in the darkness despite the bizarreness of the situation. Poker night is definitely becoming a weekly tradition.

-

_end ; reviews always appreciated._


	3. amused to disappointed

**Amused**

The humour danced light-heartedly in her twin emeralds, the grin barely suppressed on her dainty features. It was a sight she had never dreamed of seeing – never thought of, never cared to think of, really, before now. But this was her life now, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"You ate the last of the strawberry ice-cream," the Hyuuga deadpanned, his gaze pinned on the other occupant of their kitchen. "Again."

The sigh that replied to the aristocratic man was impeccable with its timing as usual, and the Nara man popped his elbows on to the small kitchen bar for support. His head followed, as with his gaze, and the amusement skirted lightly in his eyes. "Troublesome."

The slight eyebrow twitch on Neji's patrician face was barely perceptible, but Sakura caught it. This time, a small giggle escaped her mouth at the absurd scene. This was _Neji_ and _Shikamaru_, fighting over strawberry _ice-cream_ like it was the most natural thing for two highly respected and feared Konoha ANBU to be doing.

"What's so amusing?"

"Oh, nothing at all," the pinkette replied, the corners of her lips quirking into small smirk.

Something flickered in his pale orbs, and the Hyuuga exchanged an unreadable look with Shikamaru. In a flash, the two men had vanished from their previous spot in the kitchen. Sakura blinked at their sudden appearance, the confusion clear in her vibrant emerald orbs. "What-"

"Strawberry ice-cream, eh," Neji smirked down at the pinkette.

"Sharing is caring, huh?" Shikamaru piped in, the mischievous gleam apparent in his usually bored eyes.

Sakura backed up, in conjunction to their slow advance on her. _Aw crap_, she thought, but the amused smile never wavered from her face. "You know, Sakura," Neji whispered huskily, his body pressed dangerously close to hers, effectively sandwiching her between him and the wall. "If I didn't know better, I would've said _you_ were the one that ate the ice-cream."

Shikamaru sandwiched the other side of her body. "But you don't like strawberry ice-cream, right?"

Sakura wasn't given the chance to answer, as Neji's mouth had smothered her own in a smouldering kiss. His playful tongue licked away the little remnant of a pink stain on the corner of her mouth, and Sakura almost giggled in mirth at being caught.

_Oh, life was good, indeed._

**Bitter**

It was never meant to last.

_He_ was the future leader of the prominent Hyuuga clan. It was such a heavy duty to shoulder, Sakura wished she could take his stress away and bear it for him.

_He_ had clan duties to fulfill. The Naras were no Uchiha or Hyuuga, but were outstanding in their own right. Sakura wished she could just whisk him away to another world, where such expectations didn't exist.

And _she_ was always alone. Her civilian family held no place in their world, and her surrogate family was too busy with their lives for her. ANBU had stolen both Kakashi and Naruto from her, and she was alone again. Neji and Shikamaru wished they could stay forever, so she would never be alone again.

But it was never meant to be, and reality won, whisking them back to _life_.

And all that was left of _them_, was a small photograph.

**Curious**

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Oh?" she all but purred back, the amused gleam obvious in her vibrant eyes. "Then why, darling, am I still alive?"

"Because this stupid man couldn't suppress the masochistic streak within," Neji piped in, rolling his pale orbs at the sight. Sakura quirked an eyebrow at the weird gesture – his sclera, iris and pupil blend perfectly together after all, and his attempt at an eye roll was barely distinguishable.

"Why masochistic?" she fired back. Pausing for only a moment, the humour returned to her dancing eyes. "Oh, this day is wonderful indeed – the great _Neji-sama _has mixed the words 'masochistic' and 'chivalrous' up!" She scooted closer to the Hyuuga on the couch – as much as the strong arms embracing her middle would allow her to move, anyhow, and patted him sympathetically on the head. "There there, my little genius. I'm sure you'll be all recovered from this mental degeneration in _no time_!"

She could feel the burn of his glare, which only caused for more laughter from the pink haired woman.

"No, I think he meant masochistic," the owner of the arms drawled lazily, tugging her back closer, knowing the Hyuuga would be tugged in tow. "Anyone would be, to want to deal with _you_ all day."

The look of feigned insult passed her dainty features momentarily, but the grin beneath couldn't be suppressed. She pulled Neji closer to her and leaned into Shikamaru's toned chest in one smooth move – something she had mastered over the course of their relationship – and placed a light peck on both their lips. "I know," she whispered huskily, the cat-like purr in her voice back as she tugged them even closer to her. "Perhaps, it's high time I awarded you two for your..._gallant_ act of saving me."

**Disappointed**

"Sorry, Sakura-chan," her heart brother flashes her his trademark sheepish grin, and her heart only sinks further at the sight. "But I've got a date with Hinata-chan. Rain check for lunch?"

"Of course, baka," she admonishes through the pain within, playing her part. "You've finally noticed Hinata – you have to make up for all that time you lost when we were teens." The last part she adds with a slight eye roll, which is promptly followed by a quick shove in the Hyuuga compound's general direction.

"Thanks, Sakura-chan," he beams at her. Already, he is far down the street, eager to meet with his demure girlfriend. "See you later!"

She waves back at him, and doesn't let her face fall until he is completely out of sight. The moment he does though, her formally bright face crumples into what's beneath, and she turns away too, _alone_. She heaves another sigh and walks away, tired.

There is no sign of the headstrong, feisty woman she is as she walks down the crowded street, her steps slow and heavy. There are lines of fatigue on her pretty face, and they are not from the lack of sleep. She is _oh so tired_ of playing her part, and she is so tired of being alone.

She doesn't wish for Prince Charming or even an Average Prince. Hell, she would've settled for the pauper at this point – all she wanted was some love, and to not be so _alone_ anymore.

She doesn't know how it happened – but the next second, she is sprawled on the ground. She blinks up at the sky – clouds cover everything, but the sun is fighting to break free. _The calm after the storm_, she muses to herself half-heartedly, her mind still muddled from the impact.

Somehow, in her lack of attentiveness, she has managed to collide with/trip over/shove to the ground, two of Konoha's prized ANBUs (and with her, together they make a fearsome team). "Neji!" she gasps, her face flushing a delicate cherry red. "Shikamaru – oh gods, I'm so sorry!"

Her two teammates (her newly assigned ANBU team; she is still adjusting, still longing, and still distanced) each grunt a reply, but offer her a hand nonetheless. She realizes, to her extreme horror, that she is still sprawled quite ungracefully on the bustling street. She shakes her head lightly and springs to her feet effortlessly.

They don't quite have their synergy figured out yet, and they haven't quite figured each other out yet, either. But she flashes a smile at her new teammates nonetheless, and offers her apologies once again before giving a wave and walking away.

She doesn't know why the smile she is has been unable to produce came so easily for _them_, but she thinks, it feels quite nice to have a genuine smile perched on her face once again.

Behind her, _they_ don't know why, but they think they rather like seeing the genuine smile on the solemn woman (and lonely woman – they know. It's hard not to, when the hurt is so evident in her emotional eyes), and they walk away from each other, but not before exchanging a glance.

None of them know it yet, but it's the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

* * *

**A/N:** Prompts stolen from alphabet soup, over at LJ! There will be one little snapshot into their lives for each letter of the alphabet, and here are the first four. They follow no chronological order whatsoever, and all stand alone unless otherwise indicated. This is **un-beta'd**. Everything from me will be, until I can find a beta. When I do, I'll come clean up all the mistakes.

The next chapter up won't necessarily be E-H; but rest assured, the remaining 22 _will_ come, in time. Hopefully. Each of these alphabet chapters will have 4-5 in them. Hope you enjoyed this long overdue chapter!

Please review if you liked it. And please review even if you didn't (_constructive _criticism please). It's not that hard to just drop a word. Your reviews inspire me to write more!


	4. ecstatic

**Ecstatic**

"We made it!" Sakura laughs, a slight slur to show for the three empty shot glasses sitting neatly in a pile before her. "Four months! _Four months! _We're finally home!"

Despite himself, Neji's lips quirk up slightly in the corner, a smirk tugging at his face. Beside him, Shikamaru is propped up casually on an elbow, having already lost to the lazy smirk now spreading across his face. Sakura smiles like a child with a sugar lollipop as she swings to pour another shot into each of their respective cups. "Welcome home, boys."

"You, too, Sakura," Neji smirks finally, raising his shot in a toast to her words. "To home."

"To home!" she choruses along with Shikamaru, with the latter in a noticeably lower decibel range. And as the three down another set of shots, they raise more than a few eyebrows around the quaint bar. The sparsely decorated bar is filled densely with civilians, and the faces they recognize in the blurry crowd is minimal enough for the three teammates to feel a satisfactory level of comfort. The ones they do recognize however, know enough to not disturb the three beaming like idiots in the corner booth.

Although each are donning the customary jounin uniform, the summer weather has found them forgoing the black undershirt. The swirl on their biceps is enough for any shinobi in the bar to know not to piss them off – _ANBU_ – they are, after all, the elite of the elite. "Oh!" the cerise haired woman gasps suddenly, a look of momentary epiphany gracing her features. "I can't believe I _forgot!_ We need to go eat dango! I haven't had Haruka-san's dango in so longggg!" she slurs near the end, the determined look falling from her face.

"Haruka-san has probably gone home now, Sakura,'' Neji points out unceremoniously with a slight arch of his patrician eyebrow.

"But I want _dango_! Shikamaru wants dango _too!"_

"Oh?" Shikamaru plays along, twirling a wayward cerise strand lazily. "You must be psychic, Sakura."

In her drunken stupor, the sarcasm escapes her entirely – for a moment, she even looks triumphant as she turns towards Neji. "See?" she pouts, "You're the only one that doesn't see the light."

"Alright, Shikamaru," Neji smirks, "Let's go raid poor Haruka-san's house, and hold him at kunai point until he cooks some dango for us, shall we?"

"Brilliant idea, Neji."

Sakura swivels her head slowly between her two boys, and it is another minute before drunken understanding filters across her face. "Hey!" she says, offended – but the offense melts in no time, as an amused laugh fills the air. "I've been silly, huh." A wistful sigh escapes her lips then as her emeralds trace a bubble in her beer glass, "I really was looking forward to his dango though."

"..."

Neji and Shikamaru exchange a glance before identical smirks spread across their faces – but Neji turns back to Sakura, a wistful sigh to mirror hers on his lips. He looks as dejected as her for a while before he says suddenly, "It's a good thing then that we went and bought some for you earlier, as soon as we got back to Konoha."

The change in her demeanour is almost instantaneous, as she brightens a thousand volts. "You did?"

Shikamaru nods, "It's on the counter."

"Let's go home then!" she slurs out so quickly that it nearly becomes jumbled. In one quick movement, impressively fluid in her semi-drunken state, she grabs hold of her two boys, slams a wad of cash down on the table and rushes out of the vicinity. Neither Neji nor Shikamaru offer any protests as she hauls them out of the bar like two packages – the unhindered delight flirting with her face is enough.

They must be a sight to behold as she barrels down the emptying Konoha streets – a petite, pink haired woman hauling two fully grown men like nothing at all, smiling like a child. Oddly enough, Neji, with his trained Hyuuga pride finds he doesn't mind the few stares they have gotten so far – her happiness is enough. And Shikamaru, notorious for his laziness, doesn't mind the extra workout after an exhausting four months – like Neji, her happiness is enough.

And Sakura, leading the pack at a steady pace lets a secretive smile onto her face – dango is good, but what is _really_ good, is her two boys here, sharing it with her.


	5. a drumbeat to which we must all march

**Title:** a drumbeat to which we must all march  
**Word Count:** 1817  
**Prompts:** 250. a story never to tell & 06. breathless

**Summary:** Sometimes, the heart's desire is the biggest impossibility. Part 1/3

* * *

**F is for Frustrated**

Sakura peers up casually at the darkening sky, emeralds hazing over as her mind wanders the sheer nothings of the moment. There is a mundane, repetitive beat to her life and their lifestyle; rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. These little moments, caught in between with nothing balanced in the mix; what are they, except little nuggets of freedom? Sakura would have liked to stay like this, drifting on and not thinking for ages, eons even, but the nearly silent, rhythmic beat of her better half's footfalls rouse her. Sometimes she wonders if his footsteps actually make noise, or it's just her imagination after so much time together. Regardless, she feels his approach through their bond, forged through time.

A comfortable smile falls across her features as she leans back on the wooden counter for support. "How long will you guys be gone?"

"It shouldn't take longer than a week," Sasuke replies as he adjusts the strap of his katana. A familiar frown finds its way onto his face as the stubborn strap refused to be subdued. Almost unconsciously, Sakura moves forward to help him. _To make up for each other's shortcomings_, a voice of the past echoes in her mind.

"Be safe. Don't do anything stupid. Don't let Naruto do anything stupid, either. And _please_, for god's sake, don't join together to do something doubly reckless."

"Sakura…" he sighs. This is a warning she utters constantly, and is now like sandpaper, grating away at his nerves.

"I know!" she throws her arms up in defeat. "I just wish we were still a team together, you know? It doesn't feel right in my heart. How can I rest when I know you guys are out there, without me beside you on the field?"

"We'll be fine. We're not kids anymore, Sakura."

"That just means you guys are able to do crazier things now," she sighs, absentmindedly fixing his crooked mask. "Anyways, I might not be here when you guys return. I think shishou mentioned a mission earlier."

He nods once more, his raven hair catching a ray of the dying sun. "You be careful, too."

And then, like it's the most natural thing in the world, they lean in for a bittersweet kiss. It _should_ be natural, she thinks, for a married couple of nearly three years to kiss and worry about each other, but there is always that nudge of doubt, nugget of insincerity lingering. Their kiss is like many of the things they share; a beautiful lie, holding within its tangy taste a promise of the future. But for them, for _any_ shinobi, what are promises but lies?

She whispers something into their kiss, and he just about catches the whisper flitting through the air between them. "I love you," she says.

Sasuke mumbles something unintelligible in reply as he slips through her hold and out into the unknown future. Her emeralds trace his shadows until he is but a spec on the horizon, and only then does she drop the lovely, stricken look of a loved one left behind. It's not exactly apathy that replaces her forlorn look, but it's similar.

Lying is simply one of the things she has improved on over the years, but she can't help but think that with every day that passes, less of her reality is a lie, and more of her lie falls in place with reality.

The Godaime's eyes flash as she looks down at her coral haired, fiery tempered apprentice. "You're _requesting_ a mission?"

"You're always talking about the ANBU shortage, shishou."

The blonde's eyes stay piercing for another moment before an exasperated sigh escapes her lips. "That's true. But I'm also short staffed at the hospital. _You_ should know that since you run the place. You can't be spared there."

"Ino is more than capable enough to cover for me while I'm gone. It's not like it's permanent."

"Maybe, but…" Tsunade hesitates, looking for an shred of an excuse. When she finds none, a look of annoyed resignation crosses her face as she brings her fingers up to her temple. "Fine. I didn't want to give this to you guys, but it seems like I have no choice. Anyone else qualified is either away or dead. Don't kill two of my most prized ANBU on this mission."

The subtextual plea for their survival is crystal clear in Sakura's ears as she nods. "Thank you, shishou," she whispers, moving forward to sweep her surrogate mother in an impromptu embrace. Tsunade heaves a quiet sigh, returning the embrace while absentmindedly stroking the girl's back. There is more to Sakura's _thank you_ than its surface value, with depths that are too taboo to word.

"I know, Sakura. I know."

"I'm leaving on a mission," he pauses, drawling his words lazily as any good Nara would. "Tomorrow."

Ino quirks a brow, but he does not miss the flash of misery present in her round cerulean orbs. "Again? But you've barely recovered from your last mission."

"Yeah. Things have been pretty hectic since the roundup, it can't be helped."

"Will you be gone long?"

"A week, probably. But you know how it is."

She pauses, both in speech and in the repetitive stirring of her scalding soup. "Yeah. Of course."

It's still dark, but they've already set out. The sun is but barely peaking over the horizon in the far distance, and for every inch it moves up in the sky, the three silhouettes move further away from the towering walls of home. It's also silent, but not out of awkwardness or unwillingness. Rather, it's become habit, for the first few hours to be shrouded in nothing but the voices of the forest. They're moments of reflection used to contemplate and criticise every sin they might allow themselves to indulge in.

It is not until they are at least fifty miles away that their silence and impossible pace are broken. Perfectly in sync, like a dance routine that has been rehearsed ten thousand times before, they drop into the next clearing into each other, inhaling and drowning in the scent of their own intoxication. Within seconds they are but a tangled mess of limbs on the padded forest floor, dizzy and alive. Sakura, with her head buried deep within the burrows of Neji's neck and body curved perfectly into Shikamaru's embrace, takes a deep, cleansing inhale.

"Hey, you," she whispers into the air between them, voice raspy with negligence. "It's been a while."

"Almost two weeks," Shikamaru mumbles nearly unintelligibly.

"How have you two been?" Neji offers to the conversation quietly.

"Bored. Nothing to do while I recovered, no one to play shogi with. Ino's busy with work, usually."

"Busy, busy, busy," Sakura sighs. "The hospital is so understaffed lately that I'm practically living there. _Everyone_ is practically living there. Ino too." This she says with a sort of pointed, deliberate look at Shikamaru, but she turns to Neji before Shikamaru can decipher it fully. "And what about you? I haven't seen you at all since your post-mission check up."

"I've been good," Neji replies, and after a pause, adds, "Tenten and the twins are good as well."

The mention of twins sparks a forgotten topic in Sakura's mind, and she hesitates before she decides that if she starts keeping secrets from _them_, she'll have no safe haven left. So she ventures quietly, "I think Sasuke wants to have kids soon. I mean, he hasn't explicitly _said_ so, but he's not the most subtle when it comes to things he really wants."

"Little Uchiha boys with pink hair. Sasuke will _love_ that."

"Or maybe you'll have a little girl, and Sasuke won't have to die of a painful cardiac episode," her boys reply without missing a beat. Relief isn't strong enough of a feeling to describe what she feels – exhilaration, bliss, elation – all mingled together as a reminder that with them, she never has to worry. Sakura laughs it all out, and just like that, the invisible wall that erects every time they become reacquainted after an absence disappears and their conversation just flows from there, mingled with laughter, earlier topics entirely forgotten.

For now, their other lives take a back seat as they laugh at each other's antics and just breathe in the atmosphere, revelling in the moment. They have been in this too long, and have simply resigned themselves to the fact that no matter how real this needs to be, no matter how impossibly deep their bonds go, no matter how good they are together, _this_ is it. This is the extent of what can be in the face of their reality. But they have accepted, somewhere along the way, to tolerating and perhaps even enjoying the reality that shrouds them. At least for each and every _I love you_, there is some semblance of truth lacing each declaration. Every time they say it to their respective spouses, it somehow becomes more real, until eventually, Sakura thinks, she will no longer be able to differentiate between _their_ love and the love she so easily says out.

"How long do you think shishou will let us out for?" Sakura asks at last, bringing them back to the taboo of their actions.

Unlike before, their replies are not instantaneous. Sakura can see the wheels turning in their minds, the miserable gleam in Shikamaru's glossy eyes and poorly hidden ones mirrored in Neji's. "Two weeks at the most, probably," Shikamaru offers at last.

Neji's brows crinkle for a moment. "This mission might prove to be a handful though. If we're efficient we can probably wrap it up in five days, give or take a day."

_If we're efficient_, he says. Of course they're efficient. After Sasuke and Naruto's team, they are the most efficient, and sometimes even more. It is a learned skill, and more accurately described, a forced skill. It is the product of each hidden getaway for them – each day wasted equals one day less to spend together. They've tested it before, daring to lollygag in their return trip from a mission. Unsurprisingly, Tsunade was not amused, dangling a permanent red flag over their heads – _overplay it again, and there will be no more_. It's for their own good, they know, but they can't help the bitter taste of the truth. _One week together_. It's not perfect, and it's not ideal, but it's something, and is at least seven days more than nothing.

The solemnity of the moment is broken by Sakura's smile. "Well, what're we doing here wasting time? Let's go! We've got a few bastards to kill."

Her boys chuckle at her vulgar tongue as they untangle and begin to rid the evidence of their presence. It takes no more than two minutes with their combined efforts, and without another word, they set off towards the next two weeks of their lives.


	6. commitment is a sin unto one's self

**Title:** commitment is a sin unto one's self  
**Word Count:** 1538  
**Prompts:** 003. flashes of euphoria & unthemed 6/ 03. want

**Summary:** For them, following the heart's desire is the biggest taboo. Part 2/3, sequel to _a drumbeat to which we must all march._

**Warning:** Contains scenes unsuitable for children under 18.

* * *

It's very fortunate that his injury is but a hairline fracture. Green, soothing chakra flows from her palms into his injured bone, mending the crack until it slowly bleeds back into one flawless piece. Sakura's exhausted when she finishes, nearly depleted of her last chakra reserve but it's still a smile that brushes across her face. On the bed, her two lovers have both collapsed into each other, battered and drained from the mission; one is snoring softly while the other is expressionless in his drug induced sleep.

Sakura watches the scene for a moment, trying to etch every single detail into the depths of her memory. Shikamaru's peaceful expression, his singed hair and even the slight bit of drool gathering on the corner of his lips are details she imprints into her brain. After a moment, she blinks and the image fades away into reality and she climbs into the small bed with them. Shikamaru stirs slightly, but Neji doesn't even budge an inch.

She breathes one, two and three times consciously; the last thing she notes is the large crack on the wall that starts at the base and grows until it eventually splits into three, each end further from each other than the previous.

* * *

The time ticks away unforgivingly, and before they know it, there are only three allowable days left. Seven spent away on the mission, and four in healing; it's something Neji secretly begrudges himself for, a slight error in judgement that cost them dearly. But even three days is better than nothing, especially when the sweet sound of Sakura's laughter blends with the shy smiles and smirks Shikamaru offers between chuckles fills his days.

Surprising both Sakura and Neji, it's Shikamaru that takes the first step this time around.

They're sprawled on the bed, absentmindedly reading; Sakura with a mid-sized medical tome, Neji with some scrolls and Shikamaru with a shogi book. They're not exactly awkward with each other, but there's this tension hanging in the air between them like a large elephant in the room. Suddenly the book has slipped through Shikamaru's fingertips and replaced in his hands is Sakura, all of Sakura, roaming and exploring like a hungry lion, starved for what it needs. It catches her off guard, but a tiny squeak is all she has to show for her surprise before she is reciprocating, hands and mouth all on board as she kisses him and touches him, trying to fill that void called _need_.

With her heart pounding and mouth still devouring Shikamaru's with a ferociousness borne of deprivation, she tugs away at the thin layer of clothes separating their naked bodies, not caring that his undershirt tears under the force of her hands. As his shirt is destroyed, so is hers, as Shikamaru's hands work away at her garments with a nimbleness borne of practice, and her shirt and bra both go sailing away. The heat of the moment has her mind blanking into flashes, and suddenly her panties have also been torn away, but she is only able to gasp and moan as Shikamaru's lips suck, tug and lick away at her hard nipples. She can feel the slick wetness between her thighs moistening as her desire to be filled takes over her mind. She grinds against his hardened member for a moment, teasing him, enjoying the feeling of it against her opening.

Ironically, Shikamaru is a man of little patience, and after just a moment of her teases, he grunts, holds her firmly by the hips and thrusts hard into her. He can feel the pleasure exploding through him as her warmth surrounds him, her tight walls contracting against him. Sakura grimaces at first at the rough entry, but with every new thrust the overwhelming feeling of being filled, laced with the pain of being so much smaller, gropes at her until she is but a mess of moans.

On some days it's imperative that all three contribute to the hot mess that bind them together, but today, Neji plays the spectator, enjoying every last one of their moans and grunts as if they're his own. It's the ecstasy playing on Sakura's face, and the beads of sweat gathering on Shikamaru's forehead, slowly trickling down his face, dripping onto his rippling muscles as he thrusts. It's the arch of Sakura's back as an orgasm hits her, and their combined bliss as they pass over the edge together. But whatever _it_ is, it delights and fulfills Neji in a way that participating can't.

As if on cue, the two collapse into each other, limbs splashing over Neji as they finish. Sakura finally blinks open her eyes, the emeralds hazed over. There's a devious grin playing on her pouty lips as she swoops up to catch Shikamaru's lips in a light peck before grabbing Neji and pulling him towards her lips. Sakura also loves playing the spectator, but not today. It's been too long, and it's like she's a woman possessed. In a moment she's straddling Neji and Shikamaru is hugging her and caressing her from behind. Her left hand is in Neji's hair, grabbing and pulling and her right is tugging behind her at Shikamaru, reaching and roaming.

It's not long before she feels Neji's member harden beneath her. Still wearing that devious grin, she grinds on his lap in slow, circular motions until she sees the tension and raw need surface on his face. In one smooth motion she lifts up and down, his penis gliding smoothly into her opening. Both the moan that escapes her lips and the hand motion that pushes Neji flat on his back are involuntary, by-products of her pleasure. She rides him hard, thrusting herself onto him until she's lying atop him, grinding every part of her body against him.

And it's like this that she feels Shikamaru all of a sudden, hands first on her behind, and then _him_, also inside her. A gasp of pain slips from her mouth at the impossibility of being filled twice but they grind on, pleasure and pain. The three of them move in unison, thrusting and grinding until pleasure explodes through the three of them and they all collapse, sticky and sweaty into each other. Of their own accord, their limbs wrap around each other until they're indistinguishable from the next, and like this, wrapped in their love and ecstasy, they fall asleep.

* * *

It's nearly the end, with only fifty miles separating them from the warmth of being together and the reality of their lives. They're sitting in the same clearing they first reunited in two weeks ago, this time eating a small, casual lunch. The air is light between them, but Sakura thinks it's quite fake. Like every other 'casual lunch' that was its predecessor she tries to hold strong, smiling and laughing like nothing is amiss.

But truly, all she wants to do is cry and wonder at the uncertainty of the future, if there _is_ a future for them. She feels it every time, this imminent feeling of doom. It's a side effect of indulging in the taboo, but even knowing this, she can't keep it at bay. There will never be a guarantee of the next time, or even of the days left of their current tryst. She wants to grab this feeling, this tiny world of theirs and hold on to it until the end of eternity, never letting them go. She wants to hug them and monopolize them so that she doesn't have to share them with reality. She wants to do all of those things, except she's wise enough to know it's folly.

Instead, she smiles and offers another piece of bread to Neji. "I think we should head out in a few minutes. It's getting quite late."

Shikamaru nods his acquiescence. "Ten more minutes."

There's a stagnant pause then, as there always is. The discussion of _next time_ is always awkward, no matter how many times they've had this conversation. The deadline of their current tryst is the fine line between their world and reality, and it feels like they have already crossed back to their real lives. Uchiha Sakura, future mother of Sasuke's children, Hyuuga Neji, father of twins and Nara Shikamaru, devoted husband of the former's best friend.

"So," Neji clears his throat awkwardly. "Two, three weeks?"

"Yeah," Sakura chimes in. Normalcy is her goal. "As usual, as long as the hospital isn't too busy."

"Yeah that sounds good – but we'll have to make sure it doesn't coincide with Ino's birthday."

There's something different about this time and this promise, but Sakura can't quite put her finger to it. It might have been the slight hesitation she sensed, or the completely legitimate excuses offered, but it saddens Sakura in a way she can't understand. And though the promises of _next time_ fall from their lips and hearts easily, Sakura's jaded enough to know that reality follows no promise. There's nothing she can do except hope and cling on; except, with each passing minute, hour and day, she loses sight of what it is exactly she's holding on to, until, she fears, one day she will be unable to remember altogether.

* * *

_tbc_


End file.
